


Bilbo and the Swanboat

by MayaMarkova



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: First Kinslaying (Tolkien), Flight of the Noldor, Gen, Mirkwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:40:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28018626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayaMarkova/pseuds/MayaMarkova
Summary: While Feanorian Noldor are blamed for the Kinslaying at Alqualonde, Thorin & Co. are regarded as generally decent. What would have happened, however, if the owner of the boat they stole in Mirkwood had shown up?
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	Bilbo and the Swanboat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [morwen_of_gondor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morwen_of_gondor/gifts).



> This fic grew from a discussion with morwen_of_gondor under a chapter of her excellent _War of the Ring_ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21874765/chapters/61956346).

The journey through Mirkwood went on for what seemed to the hobbit ages upon ages; and he was always hungry, for they were extremely careful with their provisions. The food was already beginning to get low. They were thirsty too, for they had none too much water, and in all the time they had seen neither spring nor stream. 

This was their state when one day they found their path blocked by a running water. It flowed fast and strong but not very wide right across the way, and it was black, or looked it in the gloom. It was well that Beorn had warned them against it, or they would have drunk from it, whatever its colour, and filled some of their emptied skins at its bank. As it was they only thought of how to cross it without wetting themselves in its water. There had been a bridge of wood across, but it had rotted and fallen leaving only the broken posts near the bank.

Bilbo kneeling on the brink and peering forward cried: ‘There is a boat against the far bank! Now why couldn’t it have been this side!’

‘How far away do you think it is?’ asked Thorin, for by now they knew Bilbo had the sharpest eyes among them.

‘Not at all far. I shouldn’t think above twelve yards.’

‘Twelve yards! I should have thought it was thirty at least, but my eyes don’t see as well as they used a hundred years ago. Still twelve yards is as good as a mile. We can’t jump it, and we daren’t try to wade or swim.’

‘Can any of you throw a rope?’

‘What’s the good of that? The boat is sure to be tied up, even if we could hook it, which I doubt.’

‘I don’t believe it is tied,’ said Bilbo, ‘though of course I can’t be sure in this light; but it looks to me as if it was just drawn up on the bank, which is low just there where the path goes down into the water.’

‘Dori is the strongest, but Fili is the youngest and still has the best sight,’ said Thorin. ‘Come here Fili, and see if you can see the boat Mr. Baggins is talking about.’

Fili thought he could; so when he had stared a long while to get an idea of the direction, the others brought him a rope. They had several with them, and on the end of the longest they fastened one of the large iron hooks they had used for catching their packs to the straps about their shoulders. Fili took this in his hand, balanced it for a moment, and then flung it across the stream.

Splash it fell in the water! ‘Not far enough!’ said Bilbo who was peering forward. ‘A couple of feet and you would have dropped it on to the boat. Try again. I don’t suppose the magic is strong enough to hurt you, if you just touch a bit of wet rope.’

Fili picked up the hook when he had drawn it back, rather doubtfully all the same. This time he threw it with great strength.

‘Steady!’ said Bilbo, ‘you have thrown it right into the wood on the other side now. Draw it back gently.’ Fili hauled the rope back slowly, and after a while Bilbo said: ‘Carefully! It is lying on the boat; let’s hope the hook will catch.’

It did. The rope went taut, and Fili pulled in vain. Kili came to his help, and then Oin and Gloin. They tugged and tugged, and suddenly they all fell over on their backs. Bilbo was on the look out, however, caught the rope, and with a piece of stick fended off the little white boat as it came rushing across the stream. ‘Help!’ he shouted, and Balin was just in time to seize the boat before it floated off down the current.

‘It was tied after all,’ said he, looking at the snapped painter that was still dangling from it. ‘That was a good pull, my lads; and a good job that our rope was the stronger.’

‘What a strange thing this boat is!’ exclaimed Bilbo. Not only was it snowy white, but it was made in the likeness of a swan, with golden eyes and beak. It was beautiful, but it looked eerie and strange, and the hobbit was not comforted, rather he wanted to hurry on from this place. He had never liked boats of any kind, and would be the last one to claim knowledge about them, but it seemed uncanny to him to even imagine that someone would make a vessel looking like this. Maybe some Brandybuck would like to show off in such a boat on the Brandywine; but to see it in the darkness of Mirkwood was creepy, and he could only be thankful that its owner was nowhere to be seen. Thorin seemed to feel the same way. He had bent his bow and fitted an arrow in case any hidden guardian of the boat appeared.

‘Who’ll cross first?’ asked Bilbo. The sooner this crossing would be over, the better.

‘I shall,’ said Thorin, ‘and you will come with me, and Fili and Balin. That’s as many as the boat will hold at a time. After that Kili and Oin and Gloin and Dori; next Ori and Nori, Bifur and Bofur; and last Dwalin and Bombur.’

‘I’m always last and I don’t like it,’ said Bombur. ‘It’s somebody else’s turn today.’

‘You should not be so fat. As you are, you must be with the last and lightest boatload…’

‘Bombur, Thorin, please!’ begged Dori, who was really a decent fellow. ‘Let’s not quarrel in this dark place! I’ll be happy to change place with Bombur.’

‘So will I,’ said Gloin.

‘And I,’ joined Oin.

‘All right,’ relented Thorin. ‘Let Kili and Bombur be the second to cross.’

‘There aren’t any oars. How are you going to push the boat back to the far bank?’ asked the hobbit.

‘Give me another length of rope and another hook,’ said Fili, and when they had got it ready, he cast it into the darkness ahead and as high as he could throw it. Since it did not fall down again, they saw that it must have stuck in the branches. ‘Get in now,’ said Fili, ‘and one of you haul on the rope that is stuck in a tree on the other side. One of the others must keep hold of the hook we used at first, and when we are safe on the other side he can hook it on, and you can draw the boat back.’

In this way they first four travelers were soon on the far bank safe across the enchanted stream. Then the boat was dragged back for Kili and Bombur, who were next to cross. Kili had just scrambled out with the coiled rope on his arm, and Bombur was getting ready to follow, when something bad did happen. Out of the dark wood came a tall elf with silver hair, holding a bow in his left hand and a ready arrow in the other, stood tall and proud among them, and spoke angrily:

‘How do ye of uncouth race dare to lay hands upon my boat, made of white timbers I wrought with my own hands? Get out of here, thieves, before you have tasted the sharpness of my arrows!’

‘We are not thieves!’ said Thorin. ‘I am Thorin son of Thrain. May I know whom I am talking to?’

‘I am Elmo, Lord of Beleriand, whose life began by the waters of Cuiviénen years uncounted ere the fathers of the stunted people awoke!’

‘Lord Elmo, we just need to cross the river. We are on a quest to claim what was unjustly taken away from us. The bridge is no more, so your boat is the only means available. After we use it, you will of course have it back. And we shall be glad to pay for its use. Though we have had rather a bad time with goblins in the mountains, we are still not so badly off’ – here Thorin stoked the gold chain round his neck – ‘and we can compensate you. And if our quest is successful, I promise even more, together with my friendship.’

‘I will neither give my boat nor sell her for any friendship. For I say to you, Thorin son of Thrain, this is to me as are the gold and the gems of the Dwarves: the work of my heart, whose like I shall not make again. Be gone!’

‘You cannot be serious, sir!’ squeaked Bilbo. ‘We are too far on our road, with little food, we cannot return, our only way to go is forward! And anyway, even if we are to return, we have already crossed, so we’ll need your boat again to cross back!’

As he was speaking, the dwarves at the other side quietly started to pull the boat. Elmo saw this, and prepared to shoot his arrow at Thorin. However, Thorin kept his feet and his wits, and sent a swift and sure shot into the elf. He stumbled and fell face down into the river. The black water swallowed his body.

Before they could sigh with relief, however, a dreadful wail from Bilbo put all thoughts of relief out of their minds. ‘Bombur has fallen in! Bombur is drowning!’ he cried. It was only too true. Bombur had barely stepped on the land when the elf bore down on him. He had stumbled and then toppled back into the dark water, his hands slipping off the slimy roots at the edge.

They could still see his hood above the water when they ran to the bank. Quickly, they flung a rope with a hook towards him. His hand caught it, and they pulled him to the shore. He was drenched from hair to boots, of course, but that was not the worst. When they laid him on the bank he was already fast asleep, with one hand clutching the rope so tight that they could not get it from his grasp; and fast asleep he remained in spite of all they could do.

They were still standing over him, cursing their ill luck, and Bombur’s clumsiness, when they became aware of a dark figure standing high upon a rock that looked down upon the bank. It was vaguely reminiscent of Gandalf, but taller, more majestic and clad in black. And they heard a loud voice, solemn and terrible, that bade them stand and give ear. Then all fell silent and stood still, and the voice was heard speaking a curse and prophecy.

‘Tears unnumbered ye shall shed. On the House of Thorin the wrath of the Powers lieth from the West unto the uttermost East, and upon all that will follow them it shall be laid also. Their doom shall drive them, and yet betray them, and ever snatch away the very treasures that they are pursuing. The Dispossessed shall they be for ever. Ye have spilled blood unrighteously and have stained this land. For blood ye shall render blood, and from now on ye shall dwell in Death's shadow, and slain ye shall be. I have spoken.’

The younger dwarves quailed; but Thorin hardened his heart and said: ‘We have decided, and this decision we will keep. We are threatened with many evils, but one thing is not said: that we shall suffer from cowardice. Therefore I say that we will go on, and may the deeds that we shall do be the matter of song.’

‘I am sorry that we shot the elf,’ added Bilbo, ‘and twice sorry if he has died, but he started it first. We only needed to cross the water, and he bade us with shameful words be gone, and wanted to shoot at us. Did he really think that we’d gladly drown in the river so that his precious swanboat would stay untouched? The poor one was apparently unwell in the head!’

‘As for you, Bilbo Baggins,’ the dark figure continued, ‘you shall endure in Middle-earth and shall grow weary of the world with a great burden, and shall wane, and become as a shadow of regret. And this doom is already set.’

Then he disappeared, as if dissolved in the mist. Meanwhile, the other dwarves crossed the enchanted river, and they all gathered together. Some drew the ill-fated boat up on the bank, others tried in vain to wake up Bombur. There they sat for a long while but Bombur slept on with a smile on his fat face, as if he no longer cared for all the troubles that vexed them. 

As they shared pieces of bread and a cup of water, they finally started to whisper about the unfortunate events of that day. Bilbo couldn’t make sense of everything they were saying, but apparently some of the dwarves thought the dark figure was Mahal, a legendary creator of their race, while others were inclined to think that he was Mahal’s elder brother, an omnipotent doomsman.

‘Anyway, no word about this if we come across any Elves!’ warned Thorin. ‘And, to be honest, I am not as generous as Mr. Bilbo, because I’d prefer Elmo, if this really was his name, to be dead, so that we don’t need to worry about arrows in the dark. It seems indeed that he won’t shoot anymore; but tonight, we shall put double watch, just in case.’

‘It’s a pity if he’s dead,’ murmured Bilbo, ‘but you told him that you were going to claim what was yours, and he didn’t care. At the same time, he wanted us to care very much about what was his. Methinks he was too obsessed with that boat. What use is it to him now? And that Gandalf-like fellow, he offered us no help when we needed it, then came after the fact to doom us. If he is really so powerful, he’d better repair the bridge, or supply another boat which travelers could actually use!’

‘I think you are right,’ whispered Balin, ‘but please shut up, for the Powers are quick to anger!’ 

They were a gloomy party that night, and the gloom gathered still deeper on them in the following days.

**Author's Note:**

> Almost the entire text is assembled of literal Tolkien quotes. It is based mostly on the _Hobbit_ , chapter 8 ( _Flies and Spiders_ ), with an import from the _Silmarillion_ , chapter 9 ( _Of the Flight of the Noldor_ ), and some phrases from other chapters of the same works.  
> As I developed the idea of comparing the Noldor’s theft of the Telerin ships in the First Age to Thorin & Co.’s theft of a boat (owner unknown, probably one of Thranduil’s Elves) in the Third Age, I saw several curious parallels: that Thorin was prepared to shoot if an owner/guardian of the boat would appear; that Thorin and his nephews Fili and Kili, like Feanor and his sons, were killed in battle and never enjoyed their treasure, i.e. they were Dispossessed; and that Bilbo’s fate corresponded to the fate of Elves cursed to fading. In his case, the doom is already in action before the deed, because he finds the Ring before the company steals the boat.  
>  I put Bombur in the 2nd round of the boat together with Kili, so that the doomed part of the company would be assembled at the far bank: Thorin, Fili and Kili will be killed in the Battle of the Five Armies, Balin will be killed later in Moria, Bilbo will be made thin by the Ring, and Bombur will be disabled by the fall in the dark river.  
> Thinking of the owner of the boat, I couldn’t find a better candidate than Elmo, a Telerin elf, younger brother of Olwe and Elwe. He is a shadowy figure in canon, his personality and fate unknown. I made him similar to his brothers.


End file.
